


A brief history of Stephanie Rogers' sex life

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Series: Thunderstruck [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angry Sex, Army, Bisexuality, F/M, Feminist Themes, Lesbian Relationships, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Prostitution, Virginity, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:06:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sex life of Stephanie Rogers, from that little teenage girl from Brooklyn to the famous Avenger and her goddess lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

From as far as she remembered, Stephanie had been interested in all things going on between her thighs, much more than a lady should -not that she had had a lady-like education, but too many men reminded her she had to keep her place.

Of course as she was often sick, she could spend months without impure thoughts, but when she was healthy, and especially after tiny breasts blossomed on her chest and soft blond hair covered her lower stomach, she thought about _it._ About how good it felt to let her hand linger when she was in bed, how she sometimes placed a pillow between her legs to try calming raging needs. She never asked anyone about it though, her mom especially had too much on her hands, she didn’t need embarrassing questions from her daughter.

One day Stephanie touched herself, for real, her frail hands slipping under her panties, skin on skin. For once she wasn’t too sad to be home alone because she couldn’t contain a little yelp when she felt heat spread in her stomach after stroking her button for a few minutes. And maybe it was a sinful thing to do but Stephanie knew she wasn’t hurting anyone so she did it again later. It was just too pleasant to feel good in her own body, to know she could endure the waves of pleasure and be relaxed, not aching. But she had no one to talk about it and she couldn’t help wondering if she was normal, if it was wrong, if she should confess it or not --she didn’t dare to. Men could do whatever they wanted, rent or seduce women to get what they needed, but women? They were supposed to get married, make babies. Not take initiatives on their own.

She had seen, or guessed, people having sex in dark alleys, behind clubs. She knew that people were pressing against each other, grunting, moaning, but they remained dark silhouettes she avoided because she had been warned about what men want to steal from young women, and if she didn’t mind fighting for her opinions, she didn’t want to be ravished. Somehow, she knew deep in her guts it would be much more dangerous than picking a fight.

.

The first penis she saw was Bucky’s, the day she stormed into his room to announce something exciting and she caught him touching himself. Bucky almost fell from his chair, his face turned crimson red, he fumbled with his clothes to hide, and Stephanie couldn’t deny it was fun not to be the most embarrassed this time. She found this mushroom-like limb rather funny, also ugly. But the vision of Bucky’s stomach and his hairy thighs made her shiver. It was much more attractive than the anonymous hookups she had witnessed in the streets.

She had only seen his cock for ten seconds, yet she wondered what it felt like. That was big, was it really supposed to fit inside of a woman? Bucky threw a pillow at her to get her to stop staring, and she waited for him in the next room while he got dressed. That thing seemed really big, perhaps was she too skinny and weak to have sex with a man?

“Knock on the door next time!” Bucky finally reproached, still red, as he tucked his shirt in his pants.

Stephanie laughed. “Come on, I won’t tell the pastor. It’s okay, I’m seventeen, I’ve seen worse!”

It wasn’t true but she liked to look cool in front of Bucky, to act like ‘one of the boys’. He was her best friend, and even if he swore in front of her like a trooper and constantly teased her, she knew he was trustworthy. So she leaned back against his parents’ fancy sofa and crossed her hands in her lap, blushing slightly.

“You… you think it’s bad if girls do it?”

Bucky huffed, hissed, scratched his head, tried to look everywhere but her. “Well… it’s… different. It’s more complicated. I mean… I don’t think it’s a good idea, y’know…”

He seemed more embarrassed than her and Stephanie’s heart broke a little when he said it was even less acceptable for women. She had hoped he of all guys wouldn’t treat her a inferior.

“Like, it’s bad, if you stick something inside then you’re not a virgin anymore, it’s not respectful for your future husband,” Bucky stammered, looking at the ceiling.

Stephanie pursed her lips. He was an idiot, and she didn’t plan on belonging to her future husband --if she ever found one with her ugly face anyway. But she was mostly amused to know something Bucky ignored for once, so she got up, patted his cheek with a condescending smile before she left.

“You really don’t know a thing about women, do you?”

.

Stephanie quickly noticed that in her luscious daydreams were as many men as women, but what she was doing with her hand was already sinful, so she didn’t care that much. Besides, she had met several “lesbians” in her neighborhood, she knew they weren’t so bad. Stephanie didn’t know if she was a lesbian, she still sometimes thought about Bucky’s cock, as well as some beautiful ladies’ breasts. She thought she’d eventually figure it out, it was not as if she had a chance to have a partner one day anyway. A girl like her would never find a husband, she had been told that all her life, she believed it now.

A few years later when Bucky told her he was leaving for Europe, Stephanie felt like her whole world was falling apart. She didn’t even hesitate, she knew she would lose him, one way or another. They came back to his apartment and they gave each other their virginities. She did not care about some hypothetical future husband, he was her best friend, he meant everything to her and she wouldn’t let him leave for war as a boy. He had to be a man.

If Bucky had always teased her tomboyish silhouette, his cheeks turned red when she undressed and he saw her small breasts. As if he had just realized for the very first time that she was a woman. It fit but it did hurt despite all of Bucky’s precautions. He was careful and tried his best, but his lack of experience made him awkward. Stephanie didn’t blame him, it was probably her fault anyway --she should have been in better shape if she wanted to be comfortable.

His thrusts were not really pleasant, fortunately it didn’t last long, but everything else was good: the contact with another body, Bucky’s warm and muscular frame, his soft skin, his lips all over her. The simplest kisses on her neck made her feel wonderful. When he was done, still looking like he couldn’t really believe what had just happened, he lazily stroked his half-hard cock on her mound, and that felt really good. So Stephanie guided his soft hand to her button and taught him what Bucky later called a magic trick. Seeing his amazed face when she opened her eyes after arching under his fingertips, she kissed his flustered cheek.

“Here, you’ll know how to treat French women, don’t make us Americans look like idiots.”

When she tried once again to enlist that day, she was certain the doctors knew it, that it was written on her face. _Not a virgin. Not a good girl. Maybe even a future illegitimate pregnancy, or a tramp who’d do anything to get into the Army._ But doctor Erskine gave her a chance to change her life and she took it.

.

Stephanie shared Peggy’s bed twice. The first time, before the procedure, she was shy and impressed by that beautiful lady who represented everything she had always wanted to be. She was awkward, probably even worse than Bucky, but tried to do the right thing despite the shock of every new sensation. She loved every second of it, the weight of Peggy’s breasts in her hands, the plump nipples in her mouth, the wet warmth around her fingers. She almost pulled one of her exhausted muscles but she made Peggy come, she felt the beautiful soldier’s body tense, shake, and clamp around her fingers. She heard her voice break, her muffled moans. Stephanie was proud of herself, she knew she had done something good!

Then Peggy rolled them over and gently spread her legs. Stephanie felt exposed but not afraid. She didn’t expect Peggy to praise her “cute fanny” just before she buried her face in between her thighs with a soft laugh. Her indecent kisses were so good Stephanie almost passed out, and she knew she could die happy if something went wrong during the procedure. Peggy’s tongue was a foretaste of heaven.


	2. Chapter 2

The serum changed everything, her job, her body, her whole life, and for a long while Stephanie didn’t think about anything naughty. She felt awkward with these huge muscles, she didn’t even catch the look of admiration on Peggy and Howard’s faces when she came out of the machine. She looked butch now, and had to pretend on a stage to be a hero when she was just a mascot. Some kind of ugly pinup, a caricature of a soldier. She tried to do what was asked of her, for her country, but the USO was a highly disappointing experience, and she knew that if people liked her, men always treated her like less than a woman for not being desirable enough. She tried not to care but she did. And every comment about her looks hurt even if she didn’t want to hear them. 

When she touched herself for the first time in months, she realized the serum had made her even more sensitive. She came faster and could do it again immediately. Yet she didn’t have many good thoughts and she didn’t really appreciate to take time for herself. It was a basic need, not a moment of fun daydreams. And what would she have thought about anyway? Peggy, Bucky? All these good memories she couldn’t reach, these people she probably had lost forever?

After she saved Bucky and many other men, the Army finally considered her a valuable asset and she could do what she had always wanted. She gave up on the little femininity she had to blend in with her guys, she couldn’t afford long hair or skirts while crawling in the mud. But fighting next to Bucky and her Howling Commandos had boosted her confidence so she did not care. Strangely, in this hell, she was almost happy. Every day brought a new victory, she felt supported for the first time in her life, doing what she knew she was supposed to. Of course she heard all of their comments, not always very delicate, but she knew how to reply. She wasn’t a doormat, they loved and respected her for that.

 

One day she ended up, with a group of soldiers and spies, in a fancy Parisian brothel. Just like most of these houses, _Le Chabanais_ had been requisitioned by the German army to offer their officers some distraction, and Stephanie couldn’t help being impressed by all these women who pretended to party and enjoy their nights when they had to sleep with the invaders. Some of them were more than happy to do it but the others hated the situation. 

The Commandos were here to spy on a Nazi officer who had valuable intel but they soon realized the man wouldn’t show up, he had been called back to Germany a few hours ago. Stephanie tried to convince the group to leave but the guys were restless and nervous, and she didn’t have the heart to deny them the company of half-naked ladies. She let them go with a sigh, ordering them to respect their hosts and pay them well. Bucky was even offered two girls for the same rate because they liked his “très joli sourire”. 

Stephanie finished her drink and decided she would leave before getting in trouble, but a young and cheeky redhead with wide hips sat in her lap.

“And you, madame soldieur, don’t you want to have some feun?” she asked with a thick accent.

Stephanie swallowed heavily, trying to keep her hands off the tantalizing curves. “C’est bon, tu peux parler Français mademoiselle…”  
 _(It’s okay, miss, you can speak French…)_

“Oh, tu parles Français aussi? Je m’appelle Denise!” the redhead exclaimed, wrapping her chubby arms around her neck. “Tu veux pas t’amuser un peu? J’ai l’habitude des filles! Viens, on prend une chambre, j’vais bien m’occuper de toi.”  
 _(Oh you speak French too? My name is Denise! Don’t you wanna have some fun? I’m used to girls! Here, let’s take a room and I’ll take good care of you.)_

Stephanie hesitated. She wasn’t keen on paying for a woman, she felt like it would be disrespectful, that the girl would be forced, one way or another. But Denise was wiggling in her lap, pressing her almost bare breasts on her, she smelled like soap and perfume, and she didn’t seem disgusted at all. It was probably just a role she played, but she kissed Stephanie’s cheek, making her feel hornier than she had been in months. 

“D’accord, mais tu me laisses m’occuper de toi aussi…”  
 _(Okay, but let me take care of you too…)_

It didn’t shock anyone to see a woman paying for sex, it seemed rather common -or the owners considered it less unpleasant than having Nazi clients. Denise told her later that most female clients came with their husband who watched, but many women also came alone, or with their female partner. Stephanie loved the idea, especially since this house was not one of the worst in the capital. The girls were relatively free to go, clean, healthy, and not forced to accept thirty clients a day. 

She lost herself between the arms of her plumpy lover for a night, tasted her soft skin, smelled her hair; it was good to be with someone who didn’t smell like dirt and garbage, a lovely _putain_ whose profanities sounded better in French. Denise was playful and enthusiastic, she spread her legs for her and Stephanie relished in her taste. She licked her clit, two fingers buried inside of her, until she felt the girl clamp around her and scream, a bit too loud but that wasn’t annoying. Scream of pleasure were welcome after so many shouts of pain. 

Stephanie knew she didn’t owe the girl any pleasure but she was like this, she couldn’t change, right? She payed 30 francs for a few hours spent caressing soft pale skin and kissing every freckle on her body. They even drank cheap wine and ate _sablés_ , then Denise, who knew everything there was to know about a woman’s body, taught Stephanie a few interesting tricks, leaving her boneless on the mattress. 

By the end of the night, when she joined her men, they were all surprised that Stephanie hadn’t left without them. Denise kissed her cheek in front of the Commandos, Bucky seemed the most surprised. And Stephanie didn’t regret it for a second, until her little escapade came to Peggy’s ears.

*

The fight that ensued was rough, Peggy had apparently been jealous and Stephanie wouldn’t understand why, she didn’t have the feeling Peggy cared that much. They liked each other, loved each other as friends even, and respected the soldiers they were, but if there was something more between them, then Peggy should have made it clear before. They moved the argument to Peggy’s quarters not to cause turmoil in the garnison, yet both were certain to be right and wouldn’t make compromises. Stephanie didn’t understand how they got closer while fighting but they were not calmed down when they kissed. 

“What is it that you’re jealous of, now?” Stephanie growled when Peggy pulled the tie of her uniform. “If you wanted exclusivity, you should’ve said it. Not let me guess!”

“Shut up, Rogers.”

Peggy was tiptoeing to appear taller, her outraged pout inches away from her Captain’s face. Stephanie couldn’t refrain from grabbing her hips. “And what about your fondues with Stark? That doesn’t count?”

“You really don’t understand a thing about women, do you?” Peggy hissed and placed her knee between Stephanie’s legs. 

Stephanie only had time to mumble that it could also be the other way around before they fell on Peggy’s bunk and kissed furiously. She had never thought she could be that wild, thinking about it later she hoped she hadn’t missed any signs of discomfort from her partner but Peggy was as heated, as furious as she was, and this time making love was closer to a war. Ripped brassieres and stockings, hair pulled, bites, bunk creaking and pounding against the wall. 

“Don’t you dare doing that to prove your domination on me,” Peggy protested in the pillow with a loud moan of pleasure when Stephanie slapped her ass. 

The super soldier slapped the other round cheek, chuckling. “No, I’m doing it because you like that… and I’m your Captain.” 

Peggy let out a furious sigh but didn’t move, still bent over, panties around her knees, torn between the need for more pleasure and her refusal to submit. “You think you’re a real War woman now? You’re just a little girl, Rogers.” 

But she wasn’t so little anymore, and Stephanie enjoyed to be able to fully exploit her new physique to surprise her lover. She had her up against the wall, muffling her moans in her broad hand, turning Peggy’s provoking and defiant glares into wet pleading looks. Making her beg was a pleasure at first, she regretted it when her best girl got her revenge.

Peggy treacherously drew out the pleasure from her, stopping just before Stephanie would come, leaving her wet and trembling on the bunk. When she tried to regain advantage by sitting over her shoulders to “make her pretty Captain shut up”, Stephanie surprised her with a few tricks she had learned in Paris. 

They ended up breathless, shivering in the cold morning, covered in bruises and lovebites, their hair messier than after a battle. When Peggy snuggled against her side, Stephanie kissed her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose. They smelled like sweat and sex, and it was good. She didn’t know what she was feeling for her, was it love? Passion? Admiration? A bit of both perhaps, but Stephanie was unsure. If this was love why wasn’t it stronger, or more impressive? 

Peggy let out a soft sigh. “We should talk about it…”

“Yes, wanna talk?” Stephanie mumbled.

She felt Peggy snuggle closer with a soft “No” and wrapped her arms around her. They had too much on their mind right now to try discussing their feelings. Maybe they would sort this out after the war. Maybe they weren’t meant to be. If that was love, it was very different than what Stephanie expected. 

The next morning Stark was particularly nice to them, he told them worriedly that he had “heard them fight” and that they shouldn’t be so violent. Out of respect for Peggy, Stephanie didn’t tell him they were having sex, but she couldn’t help thinking for a womanizer he definitely didn’t know anything about women.

*

They opened a brothel in the camp, a wide tent hosting several girls from Italy, France, Germany and even Austria, and Stephanie had it closed when she saw the disgusting conditions in which they worked. No hygiene, no protection, the girls had to fuck soldiers, one after another, they were treated like animals. Sadly, every time she left on a mission, someone found a way to open another pleasure tent and exploit other women. 

Understanding she couldn’t fight against misogynistic orders of command, she decided to spend all her pay on nights with girls. She rented them for hours and stayed with them, she helped them bathe and clean their wounds, found respectful doctors to take care of them. She talked with them, learned a bit of their languages, and offered them the luxury of paid nights of rest. This was the best she could do at the time, it was not much but the girls were grateful.

She forbade the Howling Commandos to visit them though, and it didn’t please everyone. When Dun Dun barked that they were men, they had every right to own women, she grabbed his collar, threatening to tear his jacket.

“And what are we supposed to do, what do you know about men’s needs?” he spat.

Stephanie cut him. “I don’t care, fuck each other or go fuck yourselves!” 

It was not about sex or needs, she didn’t want such a topic to threaten her authority. The Commandos wouldn’t succeed without unity and solidarity. And the only person she would have given leadership to didn’t want it.

 

*

 

For the next few months she didn’t get intimate with anyone. Her relationship with Peggy was still strange, and if she had gotten closer than ever to Bucky, they were like brother and sister now. They would have died for each other, protected each other at all costs, but sex was out of line. What they had was too strong to be ruined by their bodies’ whims.

Stephanie didn’t think she would ever fuck one of her men, she couldn’t help feeling like it would make her seem weaker in their mind. She couldn’t allow herself to be “a girl”, not in the current situation. It didn’t even interest her, she knew them too well to desire them. There was one who never mocked her appearance though, one who even defended her sometimes when all the guys said she was too strong to ever find a husband. It was just soft teasing but Gabe knew rejection and he hated when they made her feel different. He respected her the most. 

They escaped one night, in the woods, after a tough battle, kissed against a tree covered in moss. When she unbuckled her belt, Gabe pulled out of his pocket a _capote anglaise_ , as they were called here. 

“Not the right time to get you a lil’ caramel baby,” he assured, a hand on her belly, and with a look that showed he wouldn’t hate the idea under other circumstances. 

Stephanie shrugged and kissed him again, trying not to think about it. She wasn’t certain she could be pregnant, but she couldn’t take the risk. Even if Gabe was more modest than Bucky, Stephanie realized that with the right moves and stamina a cock could also do miracles. She muffled her screams against his shoulder, loving his kisses, his hands, the sensual contact with another body. She had missed it, she loved to be able to enjoy intimacy without fear of losing his respect. He didn’t tell anyone, didn’t treat her differently afterwards, except for a few longing gazes when he thought she wasn’t looking.

She thought they could perhaps do it again, and once allowed herself to imagine that one day, in this utopic land called “after the war”, they could try to talk about a family. Gabe definitely was husband material. But Bucky died. And nothing ever was the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my sister's obsession with brothels for her resources on prostitution in France through 20th century.


	3. Chapter 3

In 2011, when she woke up in this brand new world, Stephanie struggled with depression. She had everything she needed: she was alive, she had unlimited access to good SHIELD therapists, money, and food, but no one to share her comfort with and that felt terrible. She had no friends, no family. She spent her days alone, wondering what to do with her life. Why did they get her out of the ice, her life was almost as empty now? She spent months working out, trying to find her place as a soldier, as a woman too.

The girls on TV and magazines were extremely thin, women that would have been considered as malnourished back in the days. They removed all of their hairs, even down there, looking like prepubescent girls, and were sexualized in inappropriate ways. And Stephanie sometimes wondered how it was better. The streets of New-York had changed, it took her a while to decide if she liked that or not.

She caught up on Women’s Rights and feminism, realized that queer struggles had led to more respect and tolerance, and she was enthusiastic about it even if she couldn’t talk about her discoveries with anyone. She realized things had changed a lot when she found herself in front of a “Feminist Love Store”. It looked like a decent store, not some creepy back alley shop where men could do business she didn’t want to hear about. A middle-aged woman welcomed her, amused by her surprised looks but never condescending about it. They talked for a while, the woman was not trying to sell her products at all costs, she simply gave good advice and interesting points of view. In the end, after refusing to take a look at the movies, Stephanie left with a toy, curious about the vibrations she had tried on her hand, and the feeling that being allowed to go to a store to buy an object of a sexual nature in broad lights was a huge step forward. 

She loved this new era, the equality, the rights, the fights that had been won against intolerance and sickness. Happy interracial couples and their kids in the streets made her smile. There were new words to describe women like her --bisexual, pansexual, she wasn’t sure yet. She now had the opportunity to buy disposable pads that could contain her serum enhanced period, and eat as much chocolate as she wanted, watching Netflix, when she didn’t want to go out during these days. And this little wonder of technology she had bought found a place in her bedside, when it wasn’t between her thighs. Her life would have been perfect if she hadn’t been so lonely, under the constant impression to be misunderstood. 

When Nick Fury came to her for Loki and the Tesseract, Stephanie jumped on the occasion. Anything to stop being bored. At least while she worked, she wouldn’t have to worry about making friends. 

Phil Coulson made her feel good about herself for the first time in years. He was not very subtle but he looked at her like she was a hero, not some kind of freak. She felt appreciated, he was the first to make her understand her work had made a difference during the war. That was a nice change. She hated Tony Stark with all her guts, a man that wasn’t half of his father, until she realized she kinda liked him too when he didn’t act like someone else. She knew from day one that she would like Natasha, there was immediately some kind of female solidarity between them. 

And she met Thora. The first woman she ever knew who was bigger, stronger, and taller than her. For some reason their first contact was energetic, violent even, but they quickly got along as the Avengers tried to become a team to save the world. Perhaps it was the shared sentiment of feeling like strangers in this world, of not understanding all of their teammates references. One day Stephanie was fighting Thora, her shield blocking the powerful pounding of her opponent’s hammer, the next she looked at her as they were fighting side by side, and Thora was everything she admired. It took one look, one joke on the battlefield, one smile to understand something was going on, something they wanted to explore after saving the world. If they ever could.

They both knew they couldn’t afford to lose time, human lives are too short to worry or hesitate. After the team’s shawarma dinner, Stephanie offered Thora to crash in her bed for the night, which the Asgardian accepted without a second thought. Stark had also offered rooms in his tower but that was rather optimistic, and they preferred to sleep between four walls and intact windows. 

They fell asleep next to each other, half-dressed, dirty and too tired to think about flirting even if it was clear they both wanted to. Stephanie woke up in Thora’s arms, crushed in her strong embrace, and it was one of the best mornings she ever had. Her cheek pressed against round and warm breasts, she asked Thora is she was seeing anyone, if the princess had a fiancé back on Asgard. She got a “No” and a kiss for an answer, and she marveled at how easy it was to talk to her. 

That day they stayed in bed, only getting up to order food and take showers. They talked a lot, Stephanie loved to finally have someone to listen to her, they held hands and snuggled, they even kissed sometimes but nothing more. Thora’s deep voice was soothing, her hugs and laughs heartwarming. The moment Thora brought her to the kitchen in a bridal carry, Stephanie felt like this time, it was different. It wasn’t like with Bucky, Peggy, Denise or Gabe. This time her heart was beating fast but she didn’t lose her words. She didn’t care about anything, she never felt ridiculous or out of place with Thora. She knew it was love. She didn’t need explanations, she felt it. She had real feelings, and that was better than she expected. 

They didn’t make love until Thora brought Loki back on Asgard then showed up again, a few days later. And even that was different. Everything Stephanie thought she knew she had to unlearn because what they had was unique. Thora hugged her, snuggled with her for a long moment, playing with her hair, listening to her. 

When they started kissing there was no rush. They took their time. Thora rained kisses on her face, her shoulders, her neck, her chest, as she caressed her. She praised her soft skin, her smell, her beauty, her cute face and Stephanie realized no one had ever taken the time to compliment her so much. Thora wasn’t forcing herself to get her in bed, she said it like she meant it. She called her precious and strong, delicate and solid, and no one had described Stephanie this way before. 

It took them more than an hour to get naked, as they kissed and whispered tender words. Stephanie felt like a divinity, worshiped by Thora’s hands and lips. Her lover nibbled on her skin, licked her navel to hear her squeal, sucked on the inside of her thighs with pleased moans. When Thora slid a hand over her panties and murmured in her ear a soft “You’re soaked for me, Stevie…”, the soldier almost came on spot. Thora was the right amount of dirty and sensual, never too much, just more than enough. She licked every inch of Stephanie’s body, taking her time, sucked on her toes, spread her labia with her fingers, calling it a ‘work of beauty’, and even ran her tongue between her cheeks, making her moan in pleasure. 

As soon as she got the opportunity, Stephanie regained control despite her trembling thighs and smothered Thora with the same attentions, loving how the deep voice came even lower when she rubbed her the right way. The goddess was unrestrained, she enjoyed sex just as she enjoyed everything else: loudly and with passion. Her strong body made the bed shake as she arched, she rolled her hips to meet Stephanie’s hands, and roared like a lioness, hiding nothing of her orgasm. She was the first person since the serum with whom Stephanie didn’t have to control her strength. The more she gave, the more Thora demanded, and it felt wonderful.

When Stephanie found herself on her back again, it didn’t take long for Thora to make her scream. She came with a low moan, biting Thora’s forearm but still looking her in the eyes, and if her Asgardian princess fucked her hard with three thick fingers, stroking a spot inside her that made her shake in pleasure, her look was gentle and her smile proud. 

After her moans had faded and she stretched with a huge smile, Stephanie saw Thora lick her soaked fingers, finding the idea both outrageous and exciting. And despite the intensity of their lovemaking they fell on each other and snuggled, kissed, cuddled with a surprising innocence. Thora whispered three little words in her ear, Stephanie repeated them with a bright smile. Three little words that made a difference because life had never let her be a romantic, but it felt good to love and be loved.

 

Together they learned how to live in New-York in the 21st century, which was easier than they thought. They managed to found ways to balance their private lives and their duties, they learned to make compromises and sacrifices, understanding that they would have to work hard for this relationship to survive distance and differences. 

Stephanie was happy to expand her horizons, both sentimentally and sexually, in Thora’s arms. Thora had no trouble saying out loud in a sex-shop that she wanted to use a certain device on Stephanie, and the soldier chuckled but accepted the challenge --even if her favorite always remained that beautiful olisbos made of Asgardian wood that Thora tied to her hips to take her for as long as she could.

She leaned all the tricks that turned Thora into a purring kitten, how hard to slap her beautiful ass to make her beg for more, how to pull her mane, how to subjugate her invincible body, how to tease her and make her shiver with impatience. 

But Stephanie knew she had become good the day when, after a rough session that had left them both panting on kitchen floor of their new apartment in Stark Tower, she received a private email from Tony. Their host was sincerely worried about them, he had “heard their violent fight” and wanted to make sure Stephanie wasn’t “a victim of domestic abuse”, even offering his help if “she needed to get out of a toxic relationship”. 

Thora was shocked by the insinuations and demanded that they went and explain the truth to him, he couldn’t believe she was hurting her beautiful lady! But it simply made Stephanie laugh. Like father, like son...


End file.
